Santa Claus is my big brother

Dean had to hurry. He would have to pick up Sammy at school in an hour. Sammy had been feeling down. Their dad had already told them that he had to work on Christmas Eve and Christmas day and this was the year that Sam had started to question whether Santa Claus was real. Dean knew that he couldn't hold it off for much longer, but he was determined to make one more Christmas happy for Sam.

He had been doing odd jobs after school when their dad was away on hunts over the last year. Sammy was with him, but Sammy didn't know what he was saving the money for. Sometimes he'd help Dean and Dean would give him a cut of whatever he got. He had saved enough to buy little gifts for both Sammy and their dad. He even saved enough to get Sam what he really wanted which was the Tolkien books. Dean smiled at how ravenous a reader Sam was.

Dean had gone shopping for the food and presents all under Sam's radar. He then bargained for one of the last few remaining small little trees at a nearby tree lot, brought it home and started decorating it. He had cut school to do everything, but he'd deal with the consequences later. It was more important to make it all special for Sam even if it was only for one more year. He knew he couldn't afford ornaments, but he had enough to buy a lot of microwave popcorn and they had a needle and thread around so he began making garlands of popcorn to decorate the tree. He had done so many he thought his fingers would bleed. He bought cooked turkey breast and thighs to microwave, a can of cranberry sauce and half a pumpkin pie, as much as a treat for himself as for Sammy. After all, what kind of Christmas would it be without pie? He had saved the Sunday funnies over the year so he could use them to wrap the presents, and he had gotten some store bought cookies so that Sammy could leave them for Santa.

He finished his handiwork then left to pick up Sammy. Sam had been quiet the entire walk home. The school had done a great job of letting the kids decorate a tree, make an ornament to hang on their own tress, and even gave them little gifts to take home, but in the end, Sam wasn't looking forward to coming home to a place devoid of any reminders of Christmas. Dean kept silent. He hoped that his surprise would cheer Sammy up.

They walked up to the door and Dean turned the key. When he opened it, Sam's head was down and he didn't even see what was inside.

"Earth to Sammy," Dean coaxed.

Sammy finally looked up and spied the scene that Dean had laid out in their meager living room. His eyes went wide with surprise and delight. They lit up with joy and Dean took in a breath of relief. His plan had been worth it.

"Dean!!! There's a tree!!!"

"Yeh, must have grown overnight or something," Dean said, knowing that Sam was already too smart to fool, but wanting to maintain the childlike wonder for as long as he could.

"It's all decorated," Sam said smiling.

"Well, it isn't quite finished yet. You still have that ornament you made to put on it. Once that's on, it'll be –"

"The best Christmas tree EVER!" Sam finished and Dean was smiling softly as he ruffled his brother's hair.

Sam peeled his backpack and jacket off like a boy with a mission. He opened his pack to lift out the ornament that he had made in school. It was a round glass ornament, the kind you find in craft stores and it had been painted in every shade of glitter paint that Dean could imagine. He had to stifle a giggle.

"So, kid, where do you want it?" Dean asked.

"Up high."

"Okay. Go for it. Choose your spot."

Sam took a few minutes, scrunching his face in deep thought, scanning the tree with his eyes to find the perfect place for it. After a couple of minutes, Dean rolled his eyes.

"Sammy, it's not like the Rockefeller Center tree."

"I know, but it has to be just right."

Dean watched with delight tinged with sadness. Whenever the holidays came around, he would think of their mom. He knew that was why their dad was never around during those times, that he would actively try and find a hunt so that he wouldn't have to remember the good times, to think about their mom and how much he had missed her. When he couldn't find a hunt, he would drink the days away. Dean hated thinking it, but much as he loved their dad, he had begun to hope that their dad would find a hunt.

Dean had remembered those really good times too. Their mom would go all out for the holidays. She had loved them so much, would plan weeks in advance for them. She would have their dad decorate the house with lights, get a big tree, decorate it with all of the ornaments they had and cook all day to make a delicious dinner. For Dean, of course, it had been all about the presents and no matter how tight things were, Dean would get at least one gift. His favorite gift had been a red fire engine that had made siren noises. Dean had also remembered when their dad had dressed up as Santa Claus. He swallowed back the emotion at remembering their dad that way and knowing how much the loss of their mom had killed him and had hollowed him out from the inside. All Dean had were the memories, but he was grateful to have them.

The memories were slowly fading over time and sometimes it would hurt Dean to struggle and remember those great times. More sadly, Dean regretted every holiday that Sam had to go without those kinds of memories. Even though Dean could never give Sam the memories he had, he had vowed from the time that Sammy had gotten old enough to understand Christmas and Santa Claus that he would feel some of it, that he would give Sammy as much of his memories as he could. It had been easy when Sam was little. The belief and awe simple and available with just the smallest of gestures, but during the bad times, the times when their dad would wallow in his pain, Dean had tried to make Sam feel as good as possible and had explained gently why Santa wasn't coming that year. Their dad had told Dean not to get Sam so hopeful because disappointment was inevitable, that Sammy had to toughen up and learn that you didn't always get what you wanted in life, but Dean refused to give in. One year Dean had made the mistake of saying that he had wanted Sammy to have the kind of Christmases they had when their mom was alive. Their dad was roaring drunk at the time and threw his glass across the room telling Dean never to mention their mother again and he hadn't ever since. Dean knew that their dad wasn't a bad man just a very sad one and he couldn't blame him for missing their mom. Dean did too especially during the holidays. Dean kept telling himself and later to Sammy that their dad had loved their mom so much that he just couldn't bear to remember the way it used to be. It just hurt too much.

Dean felt in his bones that this would be the last time he would be able to carry off a childlike Christmas for Sammy. He wasn't so sure he would pull it off now, but he would give it everything he had.

Sam finally had decided on a spot for his ornament and carefully placed it on the branch. Dean smiled at how it stood out among the popcorn garland and at Sam's pride of placing it there.

"What do you think, Dean?"

"It's awesome, Sammy," Dean encouraged.

Christmas Eve was a couple of days away and Dean did everything he could to keep the spirit going, watching A Charlie Brown Christmas and all the other hokey holiday fare that was flooding the TV stations with Sammy. Seeing Sammy smile was worth it.

Finally, Christmas Eve had arrived and Dean had Sammy pour the milk in a glass and put the cookies on the plate.

"Dean?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you think Santa will come?"

Dean's heart clenched.

"Of course, he's going to come," Dean insisted. "Why would you think he wouldn't?"

"Because I heard..."

Dean's heart then sank.

"Heard what? What makes you think –"

"Dean, when you told me to stay in the car one time, I didn't listen and snuck around to see where you and Dad were going. I heard someone scream…it scared me so much that I ran back to the car."

Dean's eyes widened in shock. He'd remembered a hunt when Sammy was particularly quiet and he had looked scared. He had wondered then if maybe Sam had already begun suspecting things. Sam had always been smart and traveling around in the dark of night and into dark places probably made him wonder.

"Is Dad a killer?"

"What? No, no way, Sammy. I promise you, Dad is a good guy, a superhero. He fights bad things. What you heard, Dad was saving someone from getting hurt and he had to make sure that the bad guy didn't come back. I've never lied to you and I'm not now. Dad's not a killer."

Sammy looked at Dean's determined and sympathetic expression and believed him wholeheartedly. Dean had never lied to him.

"Okay, I believe you, Dean," Sammy said, his eyes still containing his unquestioned belief in his big brother, but Dean also saw doubt in them as well and it cut into his insides.

"And you can also believe that Santa is coming tonight, but he won't if we both don't hit the rack right now."

"Okay, Dean," Sam said, his smile returning to his face as he skipped off to bed.

Dean waited until Sam finally fell asleep, something he thought would never happen, the excitement amping Sam up so much that he tossed and turned over and over again like a whirling dervish even with Dean's "threats" of Santa skipping them both if he didn't fall asleep.

Dean went to the hall closet and pulled out the box he had hidden there, well camouflaged as only a Winchester could do it. He tiptoed into the living room, again, employing the stealth skills trained into him and put the gifts under the tree. Dean smiled at the joy it gave him to act like Santa Claus for Sammy, to make Sammy happy. Whenever he did, he would swear he could feel their mom's presence with him. He didn't believe in much anymore, but he clung to that feeling every year because he knew that someday, it would be gone just like she was.

He took a swig from the glass of milk and bit into one of the cookies to leave as evidence that Santa had come by, had not forgotten them. He stood back to admire his handiwork and smiled.

Unnoticed by Dean, Sammy had awakened and had used his own stealth training to keep Dean from knowing that he was up. He watched his big brother set the scene up as he had every Christmas that he could and smiled, a tinge of sadness in it because he had stopped believing in Santa Claus a while ago and didn't have the heart to tell Dean. One thing he had never stopped believing in though was his big brother. Santa Claus was his big brother and every year Dean would make sure that Sammy never did without that wonder. What Dean didn't know was that he was Santa Claus every day of the year to Sammy. Everything he ever did for him, Sam knew took away a little something from Dean, but he never let that show or never let Sam feel badly about. It was who he was. It was who Sam hoped he would be someday. Just like his big brother.

FIN. It's a belated story, but one I enjoyed writing and had to share. Hope you enjoyed reading it. Thanks for reading.